


Safe and Sound

by Demerite



Series: Trektober 2019 [30]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Comfort Sex, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-13 04:17:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21238040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demerite/pseuds/Demerite
Summary: Una lets herself get lost in the way his kisses are like drowning and desperation, and the way his grip on her waist is tight to hide how otherwise, his hands would be shaking.





	Safe and Sound

**Author's Note:**

> For the Day 31 Prompt: Healing/Comfort Sex. 
> 
> Can be read as a sequel to [Captivus](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21089531), but you don't have to.

It's a mark of just how bad things were that Chris doesn't object to her following him into his quarters directly from the corridor. Normally, he'd make her go into her own room, and cross to his through their shared bathroom. 

"People will talk, Una." He usually says, to which she will roll her eyes and tell him that they can talk all they want. But she always relents when his eyes go soft and he kisses her and mumbles about how he's not concerned about his reputation, but about hers. 

But tonight, they just stumble into his quarters in a disoriented tangle of limbs, half-leaning on each other not because they're still injured - like Phil would have let either of them out of sickbay if they were - but because the need to be close to each other right now eclipses anything else. 

Una kicks her boots off and untangles from Chris long enough to unzip her jacket and throw it gently in the direction of the desk, not caring with it misses and ends up on the floor instead. She drags her trousers off next, kicking the thick fabric away, and unhooks her bra one-handed, taking it off through the sleeve of her undershirt and adding it to the pile. She crawls up into Chris' bed, settling herself up against the headboard. After a moment deliberation, Chris joins her in dressing down, stripping down to undershirt and briefs, mirroring her, always moving at her pace. He joins her on the bed, curling up next to her, his head resting on her shoulder. She wraps her arms around him as best she can, despite the awkward angle, and just holds him in a way she's wanted to do for days, without having to remain watchful and wary the entire time. 

Una scrapes her fingers lightly through Chris' hair, and he leans into her touch, as ridiculously tactile as always. She can feel his heartbeat begin to slow as she relaxes against her. Her own thoughts are still racing, cast back to every second they'd spent dirtside before their capture, every decision she'd made, every move, turning the battle over and over in his mind, trying to look at it from every possible angle, to work out what she'd done wrong, _why _things had turned out like that, _why _they'd spent a day and a night in a filthy cell and come home three crewmembers down, and what she can do to make sure it _never _happens again. 

She thinks back to those broken, bloodied bodies lined up on the shuttle floor, and she wants to sob. Tomorrow, she and Chris will inform families, write messages of condolence, and weep. It's not strictly speaking Una's job to help with that, but she always does. After missions like this one, she needs to, for herself as much as for Chris. 

"Stop thinking." Chris murmurs against her throat, and Una sighs. 

"Can't." She admits, and he shifts, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face against her neck. She lets one hand track the line of his back over his shirt, the same way she'd done over and over in that little cell, reassuring herself that he was still here, still breathing. 

"I could distract you?" He suggests, pressing a kiss to the skin of her throat. 

"You sure you're up for it?" She asks gently. Post-mission sex is great, but this isn't like it usually is. This isn't the adrenaline-fuelled nad desperate thank-fuck-we-survived that is usually is, this is quiet and soft and a little sad, and she's not entirely sure it's the best idea, but her body has a;ways reacted to his a certain way, and when he looks up at her with that smile, the one that is raw and real and shy, she knows she's powerless to say no. 

Right now, she doesn't have a problem with being powerless. 

Una leans down to kiss him, and the angle is all kinds of wrong, but it feels so good to have his lips against hers again warm and alive. She pulls him up, until they're chest to chest and his weight is pressing her into the pillows, one of his hands cupping her cheek like she's something rare and precious and fragile. The only time he'd ever voice such sentiments, she'd bitten him hard enough to draw blood to prove him wrong, so he doesn't _say _it anymore, but she can always tell when he's thinking it. 

She pushes gently at his shoulder until he understands and rolls off her, flopping back onto the pillows and smiling up at her. She pushes him gently down and straddles his lap, and he's reaching up even as she's settling, his hands finding her hips and resting there, not pulling, not demanding, just touching. She lets him, enjoys the extra contact. There are times she would have denied him - which is close to torture with how ridiculously tactile he is - but not tonight. That's not what either of them needs. 

Una ducks down to kiss him again, slow and deep, the way they both love. Chris makes a desperate little noise into her mouth, and she can't stop her lips from curling up into a smile at that. She loves when he doesn't hold back for her. 

She tells him as much, just to watch the way he ducks his head away and blushes, and she puts two fingers under his chin to draw his gaze back to her, to watch the blush spread across his cheeks and to plant kisses all over his face until they're both giggling into each other's mouths, trying to smother laughter that's probably a bit inappropriate after this mission, but still feels good. 

Una drags her undershirt off over her head, and wriggles out of Chris' lap to remove her underwear. Chris takes the opportunity to undress too, and he reaches for her the second he's naked, taking her hand and pulling her back to the bed. 

She smiles, and lets him, settles back into his lap as he leans against the pillows, kisses him gently, hands carding softly through his hair, still damp from the shower he'd taken in sickbay to wash off the dirt and dried blood. His hands are equally gentle, and sure, as they move over her back, her sides, her hips. He doesn't try to pull her down against him, content to let her take the lead. 

And take it she does; despite the bone-deep sadness she knows they're still both carrying. 

"God, Una!" He manages, his hands flying to her hips when she grips his cock at the base and slides home, rocking her hips gently and biting her lower lip hard as she gets accustomed to the stretch of him inside her. 

"Yes?" She asks, sweetly, when she has head breathing under control. 

He just laughs, a little breathless himself, and gasps when she rolls her hips, setting up a slow, deep rhythm that she'll be feeling all tomorrow. 

Chris reaches up for her, and Una lets herself get lost in the way his kisses are like drowning and desperation, and the way his grip on her waist is tight to hide how otherwise, his hands would be shaking. She lets herself get lost in him, and them, and how they're both here, and they're both alive, hearts breathing and breath coming hard and fast. 

They made it out. They're both still here. 

Alive. 

Safe. 

**Author's Note:**

> WE MADE IT Y'ALL! An entire month of writing and posting fic! I can't freaking believe it! 
> 
> Want to know more about Trektober? Click [HERE](https://aishahiwatari.tumblr.com/post/188059640163/trektober) for the info post on Aisha's tumblr, or [HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Trektober2019) for the AO3 collection to read our fic. 
> 
> Come yell at me on [Tumblr](https://demerite.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
